


turn the key (and spark the wire)

by amosanguis



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abuse of Dash Marks, Bucky Barnes's Impulse Control Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Love, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, OTP: No Not Without You, Protective Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Steve Rogers's Personal Space Issues, abuse of parentheses, title from a country song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 04:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2335988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has this thing about people touching him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	turn the key (and spark the wire)

**Author's Note:**

> \--Title from "Settin' the World on Fire" by Jake Owen  
> \--Liberties taken with Steve's healing abilities

-z-

 

Steve has this thing about people touching him.

 

-x-

 

Steve has never really been tactile, not until Bucky roared into his life with flying fists and a cocky grin.  Bucky laughs and Steve forgets to duck away from the arm being thrown so casually around his shoulders like they weren’t complete strangers.

(Steve doesn’t forget when it’s Tony Stark or any of the other Avengers – always making sure to keep himself a good arm’s length away.  He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t know them, because he’s being a good leader, even – strong and just this side of inaccessible, untouchable.  He takes the living legend and childhood hero card and plays it until he knows his new team better.)

A month passes and then two.  And Steve keeps forgetting to duck away.

Then it’s been a year and then twelve and, once Steve’s buried his mother next to his father, he’s long since learned that fighting against leaning into Bucky’s touch is futile. 

When Bucky comes in close enough they’re breathing the same air, saying something about couch cushions and how he’ll never leave Steve alone and how he’ll be with Steve ‘til the end of the line – Steve just closes what little distance there is between them.

Bucky grins against his lips, whispers, “God, Steve, finally.”

“Jerk,” Steve whispers back, pulls away before turning back to unlock his door – Bucky crowding him just as he always does.  Steve only just now realizing why.

 

-x-

 

Steve has this thing about people reaching out to him, about hands coming out at him from the corner of his eye.

 

-x-

 

The showgirls learn not to come up from behind him and reach out.  It only happened the one time and she (Amanda, her name had been Amanda) had smiled, cradled her wrist against her stomach, and waved away his apologies.

“It’s fine, Steve,” she says; and it’s not because Steve knows that she’s only doing this because her husband is at war and she’s got a baby girl and a sick mama.  “We’ve all got our ticks,” she says, grimacing bravely through her pain, “it really is okay.”

And then she walks away. 

He checks on her again after the show.  She doesn’t let him see her wrist, but he’s not dumb – he sees the pain in her eyes.

“Go to the doctor, send me the bill,” Steve says, his voice leaves no room for argument.  It’s another half-an-hour before he convinces her to do it.

(He only remembers all of this because fucking Clint had thought that sneaking up on Steve was a brilliant idea – he’d forgotten Steve’s wars and Steve’s very thorough training (both on Brooklyn streets and in the US Army).

He won’t forget again.)

Steve curses all the times he had been simply walking home, just to see a hand come from the corner of his eye and pull him into an alley for a beating.

 

-x-

 

Steve has this thing about people touching him unless he’s wounded and bleeding out and/or dying.

 

-x-

 

A HYDRA agent gets off a lucky shot (really, the man was dead and his hand twitches and his gun goes off) and the bullet just so happens to land itself in Steve’s chest. 

Steve had been looking up at Bucky, hadn’t noticed when Dum Dum took the soldier out, hadn’t been able to lift his shield in time.  He had just jerked to the side, caught Bucky’s roar of panic, and then felt his own blood spreading warmth across his gut – such a vivid contrast with the harsh winter wind that wrapped around them.

Gabe is reaching for him, but Bucky – who should never have been able to reach him so fast – is shoving him out of the way and he’s screaming Steve’s name.  He’s got a hand around Steve’s waist and wrapping Steve’s arm over his shoulder (he’s joined by Gabe, but Steve doesn’t notice him (which is something all of the Commandos are used to when Bucky’s around), on Steve’s other side).

They get him back to the rendezvous point and airlifted back to base.  On the way, Steve’s body pushes the bullet out and the bleeding slows. 

Bucky never lets go of Steve’s hand, keeps brushing Steve’s hair off his forehead and muttering dark promises of following Steve into death to bring him back to life.  By the time they’re back home (their designated tent) Steve’s chest has stopped rattling and he’s coughed the blood up from his freshly-healed lungs.

(Clint hadn’t seen the man hiding behind the desk.  Natasha had cried out and Tony’s suit was already reacting – but the bullet had already been fired.  Steve stumbles forward into Thor’s arms, the bullet tearing into a shoulder blade before exiting out of his gut.

“So getting shot in the back is what it takes,” Bruce says much, much later – when they’re all gathered around Steve’s (unnecessary) hospital bed.

“For what?” Steve asks, taking another bite of pudding.

“For you to let anyone touch you,” he answers, his voice is quiet – as if he were sharing a secret.  Natasha startles, as if she hadn’t realized that that was what had been happening; Tony nods emphatically.

“I’m sorry,” Clint says, he makes an abortive gesture, like he wants to touch Steve but thinks the action will get him burned.

“You didn’t know,” Steve says, putting as much conviction into his voice (he doesn’t necessarily feel it at the moment because, hey – Clint is supposed to have his six) as he sets aside his pudding.  “It’s okay, Clint.”

(It’s not.)

He knows that up close, things get fuzzy for Clint – there’s a reason he’s a sniper and not normally on the ground.  So Steve gets it (or he tries to). 

He still doesn’t reach over for Clint.)

Bucky curls up tight around Steve, pulls him close.  It didn’t matter that Steve was bigger now, Bucky always held him like he was still that ninety-five pound ball of nothing (not that Steve minds).

“You’re going to be the death of me one day,” Bucky whispers, “you’re going to do something stupid and I’m going to have a heart attack.  Worse, someone will actually succeed in killing you and I’ll have to go on a rampage.”

“You’ve never struck me as the rampaging type,” Steve says.  It’s something that used to be true, but after Bucky’s time on a HYDRA table, Steve’s not so sure anymore (and it scares him a little how much he’s not bothered).

“When it comes to you,” Bucky stops, presses a kiss to Steve’s neck, tightens his arms around Steve’s waist, “sometimes I’m scared of the things I would do to make sure you stayed safe.”

“Me, too,” Steve says, turning around in their thin mattress so he could look up at Bucky.  His fingers trace Bucky’s jaw and he whispers again, “Me, too, Buck.”

 

-x-

 

Steve’s has a thing about people touching him, about people coming at him from the corner of his eyes, about hands on him unless he’s bleeding and they're trying to stitch him back together.

 

-x-

 

The Soldier shows flashes of Bucky, or maybe it’s the other way around (Steve gets confused in his excitement sometimes). 

Sometimes the Soldier is the one who walks into the kitchen – eyes a chilling blue, but then he sips at the coffee that Steve hands him and then it’s Bucky who’s laughing with Steve at whatever joke Clint is trying to tell.

Whoever it is, though – Steve doesn’t care.  With each day that passes, more of Bucky’s brain heals and he may even recover another memory.

One morning, Steve is sitting at the communal area the Avengers all share and he’s reading the newspaper. 

Clint and Natasha come in, sleep rumpled and relaxed; followed not long after by Bruce and Tony – both of them chatting at each other in a way that lets Steve know they’ve just pulled another all-nighter.  The point is, is that everyone is there when Bucky comes in, eyes are half-lidded and still sleepy.  And for a moment, Steve loses himself to habit.

His arm darts out as Bucky passes, wraps around Bucky’s waist and pulls him in, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s torso before turning back to his paper.  Bucky’s arm had come up automatically, settling loosely across Steve’s neck in a half-hug and, when Steve kisses his side, Bucky kisses Steve’s head.

And it’s just so domestic, so _them_ , that Steve forgets about everyone else.

But then Tony starts making vague, high-pitched whale noises and he’s choking on air as he gestures widely.  Steve laughs at him before he grabs Bucky for an exaggerated and noisy kiss – Bucky just going with it, grinning.

 

-x-

 

Steve’s has a thing about people touching him, about people coming at him from the corner of his eyes, about hands on him unless he’s bleeding and they're trying to stitch him back together.

But, as with most rules Steve has, Bucky is an exception.

 

-z-

 

End.

**Author's Note:**

> \--I swear that I really do love Clint – don’t let this fic lie to you. I’ve recently discovered my love for parentheses so I’m trying out a new style. Let me know if it works?


End file.
